


Cleansing the Palate

by thewightknight



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Fluff, M/M, dessert is always good, dinner date, life's too short eat dessert first, new foods, raw seafood is not hux's jam, romantic gestures gone wrong, well any kind of seafood really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 00:49:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7384402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben welcomes Hux back with what's meant to be a romantic dinner. Unfortunately his idea of delicacies and Hux's are somewhat different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cleansing the Palate

**Author's Note:**

> This is somewhat a sequel to [All the Galaxy's a Stage](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6679963). Obviously lots of things that I haven't written yet happened in between these two stories, and can it stand alone, I think.

Cleansing the Palate

Two years passed before Hux returned to Republic space. He had three private communications from Ben during that time period. There were a multitude of public comm calls, of course, as various trade agreements reached fruition, and each one was a torture with all the things that remained unsaid. Finally, Command agreed that the First Order should pursue a more active role in Senate politics and Hux received orders to return, and as himself this time, not under an assumed name and cover story. 

It ruffled more than a few feathers, his previous deception, and it took several weeks of maneuvering before he felt firm enough in his position to escape for an evening. He’d seen Ben, of course, almost every day, and if the comm calls had been torture then being in the same room with him, unable to touch and with no time for a private word, had been unending agony. He’d also forgotten the disdain he’d waded through during his previous visit, his provincial status in the eyes of the decadent Core Worlds. But at last here he was, standing in the foyer of Ben’s apartments, watching him approach, arms outstretched.

He bit back his disappointment at Ben’s greeting, the barest brush of lips against the corner of his mouth. After all this time he’d been hoping for something a bit more passionate. But the warmth in Ben’s smile dispelled the hurt. It had been so long, he reminded himself, and it wasn’t as if he’d be leaving the next day. They had months to renew their acquaintance.

“I’ve had a special dinner prepared for us,” Ben was saying. He was simply dressed this evening, a loose fall of rich blue fabric over a black shift, held together by clasps at his neck, shoulder, elbows and wrists, belted at the front with silver and falling loose across his back. His makeup and hair and were impeccable, more what Hux had seen at public affairs, the touch of color on his lower lip enticing as always. Hux found himself entrance by his movements, by the whisper of the beads woven through his hair and the hints of skin at his shoulders and along the tops of his arms. A light fragrance reached him, something floral. He didn’t remember it but couldn’t decide whether it was a fault of his memory or if Ben had changed his perfume.

The dining room was set for two, but the table was groaning under a dizzying array of covered dishes, both hot and cold from the looks of it. Ben surprised him by insisting he sit first, gracing Hux’s knuckles with a kiss before relinquishing his grasp, handing him into his chair in a show of old-fashioned gentility that wound Hux’s nerves even tighter. A staggering array of utensils surrounded his plate and he stopped himself before a frown could form. He’d managed to avoid formal banquets during his last visit, entirely to avoid such foolishness.

Settling his napkin in his lap, he watched as Ben opened the first of the domed dishes with a flourish, revealing a collection of lumpy objects nestled in ice. Using a flat, wide-bladed knife he wedged one open. It split along a previously unnoticed seam, along what seemed to be a natural hinge. He couldn’t quite make out what they contained from where he sat, but it didn’t look promising. Ben arranged a half dozen each on two plates and placed one in front of Hux with a flourish.

“Fresh oysters, harvested just this afternoon.”

Hux’s stomach lurched as he stared down at the things on his plate. He’d never considered standard issue rations to be attractive in appearance, but they were works of art compared to the gelatinous masses before him. These “oysters” consisted of some moist, shiny material in a most unappetizing shade of grey, shot through with streaks of black. Ben had placed a wedge of some yellow fruit at the corner of the plate, and at his encouragement Hux held it over the shells and squeezed. He dropped it, recoiling in horror, as the sludge moved when the juice hit it. 

“Go ahead. Try one.”

Hux shook his head.

“Ben, these things look like something scraped out of a Hutt’s nostril. You’re pulling my leg, yes? You don’t actually eat these things?” Okay, maybe he could have phrased that a bit more delicately. 

Meaning to apologize he looked up, but at the sight Ben lifting one of the shells to his lips and tilting his head back to let the slimy mass fall into his mouth, the words died in his mouth. At another time, the sight of the muscles working in his long neck as he swallowed would have been enticing, but the thought of what was causing the motion overcame any other feelings. 

“They’re supposed to be an aphrodisiac, Hux.” Ben gestured with the now-empty shell at Hux’s plate.

Poking at one of the things with his finger, Hux suppressed a shudder. They were as slimy as they looked. _Aphrodisiac my ass_ , he though. He noticed a hard lump in one and pushed it to out to the side of the shell.

“There’s something in here."

Ben leaned over and the granule floated up to eye level. It was rather pretty, Hux had to admit, an irregular oval, about the size of a grain of rice.

“A pearl,” Ben said. “They form when a grain of sand makes its way into an oyster’s shell, a natural protection against irritants.”

Hux plucked it out of the air, turning it in his fingers, admiring the iridescence. “It’s beautiful.” He looked up in time to see Ben swallow another oyster and hastily returned his attention back to the pearl as his stomach tried to rebel again. 

“Perhaps we should try something else?” He sighed in relief when his plate floated away and Ben brought another covered dish forward. Steam billowed out when he lifted the lid, which suggested the next course had been cooked, thank goodness. It still contained something else in shells, though, which didn’t bode well. 

“Mussels steamed in wine,” Ben offered as he served them. They were to be eaten with a ridiculously tiny fork, it seemed. Hux speared one and examined it. It was vaguely flesh colored, and bore an unfortunate resemblance to certain female body parts he’d spent his live avoiding. The odor wasn’t unpleasant, he supposed. Cautiously he placed it in his mouth. The initial flavor was interesting but it was overcome by the texture when he bit down. “Rubbery” was the kindest word he could think of. Following fast on the unpleasantness of the texture was the realization that the flavor of the actual mussel underneath the sauce was quite horrid, and he swallowed before the urge to spit it out won. Grabbing for his glass he took three huge swallows before he realized he’d grabbed his wine and not the water. Shit. Without a doubt that was something horridly expensive and he’d downed it like cheap rotgut.

“Ah. Perhaps something else, then?” Ben’s face was blank, but Hux was sure he’d disappointed again. The next dish revealed something else in shells. It was a single shell this time, spiral shaped, but after the last two dishes he didn’t have high hopes. Ben caught his hesitation and whisked the dish away before dishing any out, thank goodness. The next one … oh mother of moons, were those tentacles? That dish disappeared too, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Ah, this should be more to your taste.” ‘This’ proved to be a filet of something meatish-looking. It was a bright pink in color, which was somewhat worrisome, but when Ben served him a portion it had a flaky texture. 

“What is this?” Hux asked, turning the piece on his fork this way and that. It was the first thing he’d seen so far that evening that looked vaguely edible.

“A smoked fish native to Naboo. One of my favorite treats from childhood.”

Great. No pressure. Hux took a tentative bite. There was a strong briny taste, as well as an acrid flavor you’d expect from something described as smoked. However did one smoke a fish, anyways? He had a brief and unpleasant vision of wrapping up some scaly beast in paper and lighting it up like a cigarette. The fish was pleasant in taste at first but the flavor intensified with additional bites, and not in a good way. He managed to finish his serving at least but the flavor lingered unpleasantly, even after several sips of the wine.

He braced himself for the next course.

“Ah, I meant to start with this! Hopefully it will be more to your liking.”

Apparently he hadn’t hidden his reaction as well as he’d thought with the fish. This newest dish was a bowl full of glistening black and grey orbs. It did not look promising. Ben spread the tiniest amount on a cracker and held it out. Taking a deep breath and holding it, he allowed Ben to place it in his mouth. 

It was … surprising. The texture startled him at first, as the balls popped in his mouth as he chewed, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. It had a rich flavor that he lacked the vocabulary to describe. There was a hint of salt and then an unexpected touch of sweetness. He realized he’d closed his eyes after he swallowed.

“Good?” 

He nodded, and noticed that Ben had another cracker held out. He let Ben feed this one to him as well. It felt ridiculous but it seemed to make Ben happy, both the feeding and the fact that he’d finally found something Hux liked.

“That was incredible. What is it?”

“Caviar.” At Hux’s blank look, Ben elaborated. “Eggs from a particular species of deepwater fish."

Hux’s enjoyment flatlined. “Eggs?” he asked, horrified. Ben nodded, his smile fading somewhat at Hux’s reaction. “You mean I ate some species’ reproductive cells?” 

“It’s a delicacy.” Ben sounded defensive, and Hux’s temper snapped.

“I beg your pardon, Senator,” he hissed, “for my uncultured palate. My people are too busy scrounging for necessities at the fringes of the galaxy to have developed a taste for such … delicacies.”

Ben remained silent after his outburst, his politician’s mask firmly in place. He felt a burning in his eyes, a tightness in his throat, at Ben’s lack of reaction. Had he spent all this time pining over something that had never existed? Had everything that had passed between them before he’d left been a lie?

His worry must have shown in his face, or Ben picked it from his thoughts. “Come now, Hux. I remember you being more adventurous than this.” The tone was light, teasing, suggestive. Hux blushed, remembering some of their more “adventurous” evenings, as Ben had no doubt intended. It didn’t dispel the feeling that he’d been played, though. In fact, it increased it. 

Two years. He’d been pining after this man for two whole years and now to come back to the realization of how different they were and how uncultured he must seem. Everything about this evening couldn’t have been more carefully chosen to emphasize their differences, and he’d been a fool to think that Ben might have seen anything in him other than his usefulness. How could he have made such a colossal mistake? 

Standing, he placed his napkin over his plate and bowed.

“My apologies, Senator, for not being able to give the meal you have prepared the attention it deserves. I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone else who will appreciate your efforts with little difficulty. Your charms are, after all, prodigious.”

This got what felt like the first genuine reaction out of Ben that evening. All the glasses on the table shattered as Ben rose, the flush of his anger showing even through his makeup.

“Is this what you think of me? What you’ve thought of me all this time?”

“What I’ve thought of you?” Hux threw out in return. “What does this say of what you think of me?” He gestured at the spread between them. “I thought you knew me. That you cared about me, that I was more to you than a tool to use. That you understood that I ….” He trailed off as the table upended, flying across the room. The clatter of dishes almost covered the splat of the various squishy bits when they hit the floor. They stood staring at each other, the silence thick between them, broken only by the dripping of various liquids from the overturned serving dishes.

“I just wanted to …” Ben ran a hand over his face, through his hair. “I wanted tonight to be special, for us both. I’ve missed you so much.” His voice broke, and with it so did Hux’s anger.

They met each other halfway, wrapped themselves around each other, murmuring a litany of apologies to each other in between kisses. Ben’s hair was softer than he remembered, the touch of his lips sweeter, but they still fit together, meshed perfectly with each other as they melted into each other’s embrace. Ben drew him backwards, pulled Hux on top him as he sat, his chair still somehow upright in the midst of the disaster he’d created. The clasps at his shoulders gave way easily and Ben moaned as Hux kissed his way down the column of his neck. There was no artifice now, no distance between them. The man beneath him was his Ben, wholly and fully, and from the frantic way he attacked Hux’s jacket, just as desperate as he to feel bare flesh beneath his hands. His jacket hit the floor, and next his shirt, and then he was fumbling with the seeming yards of fabric that had pooled in their laps. Something tore and he lost a button on trousers grown too tight and then at last there was nothing between them. He groaned at the feel of silky smooth skin against his, resting his forehead against Ben’s as he wrapped his hand around them both. He had a fleeting moment to note how the paint had smeared across Ben’s lip before Ben’s hand joined his and then there were no more thoughts to be had.

Eventually his heartbeat slowed and his breathing returned to something approaching normal. Ben murmured something, words unintelligible, face buried in the crook of his neck, and he hummed in response, carding his fingers through the ruin he’d make of Ben’s hair. How long they sat there, tangle up in each other amidst the ruins of dinner, he had no idea. When Ben finally stirred beneath him he protested, tightening his hold around Ben’s shoulders. Ben laughed in response, a throaty chuckle that vibrated through them both. With a gesture he called a napkin to his hand, somehow untouched by the mess, and used it clean them both. Smoothing the paint on Ben’s lower lip his thumb, he exposed the skin beneath before kissing him again. This time when Ben shifted he ignored Hux’s complaints, picking him up and settling him back on the chair as he rose. 

As Hux watched he picked his way through the scattered platters and spilled food until he found a heavy plastoid container, still sealed. Picking it up, and a spoon as well, he made his way back and knelt on the floor in front of Hux. 

Suspicious, Hux bit back the words that hovered at the tip of his tongue as Ben cracked open the container. He was surprised to see it contained what looked to be only shaved ice, melted now into a slush. When Ben dipped the spoon in, raising it up to Hux, he couldn’t help his slight recoil.

“Trust me, Hux. This will be more to your taste, I’m sure.” Reluctantly Hux leaned down, opening his mouth. The explosion of flavor on his tongue startled him, a burst of flavor, sweet and tart at the same time, complemented by the chill.

“Lemon ice. It’s supposed to be a palate cleanser between courses but I always used to sneak it beforehand and there wouldn’t be any left by the time dinner was served.” When Ben offered another spoonful Hux didn’t hesitate this time. Ben gave himself the third bite, then pulled Hux down off the chair to kiss him, the sweet ice melting between their lips. He laughed as Hux took the spoon from his hand and began helping himself. Hux hummed happily between mouthfuls, leaning into Ben as an arm settled around his waist.

“Note to self,” Ben said, a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. “Next time start with dessert.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really thought about changing this to include strawberry ice cream but stuck with my original idea because I love lemon ices and custards so darn much.
> 
> Feel free to come say hi over on [tumblr](http://thewightknight.tumblr.com/).


End file.
